the emotional monkey

He comes to me on a regular basis,doing his little monkey dance.I can do nothing but stare blankly at the spectacle before me.
Is he mocking my morose state? Is he trying to cheer me up?? He dances on,as my mind ponders over a trillion different things-all of which confuse and confound me,none of which I resolve before I move on to the next.
Is he trying to make light of the fact all the things which trouble my mind should not be taken so seriously or indeed thought of so deeply?- I don't know!
For no more than 15 minutes can I agree to live as though life is finally in the end,meaningless and headed no where but to that inevitable end.and so its best to just make the most of it.even towards the 15minute mark,my mind wanders to all the things..the many many things..

He steps it up a notch,but even his improvised break dance cannot force me to bat more than an eyelid.
I know all the answers,but only succeed in giving them away in advice to others.not using them myself.watching my own demise with such frustration,I wonder why I don't do more to change it all.
Mr Monkey stops,scratches his little monkey head.I appear to have made him think...
I look at him and shrug,and feel the weight of yet another guilt upon my shoulders for i know at this point,he will never dance again.Luckily he is small,the emotional monkey.

We both sit and stare into the distance,lost in thought at all the many things in the universe we do not understand.

We are as one in our all consuming madness,it will eat away at us until we slip into a realm of being where the boundaries of reality and fiction are blurred into one also.